STEEL: Night Rebels Motorcycle Club (Night Rebels MC Romance Book 1)

by Wilder, Chiah

  In the end, Roy was issued a summons for court, charging him with simple battery—a misdemeanor. They didn’t charge Steel for anything.

  “You’re fuckin’ crooked. I’m being railroaded here!” Mika pulled Roy back and stroked his arm.

  “What a pussy,” Steel said. Mika threw him a scalding look. He laughed.

  “Mika, take him back home because I’m ready to run him in.” Samuel took a step toward the couple.

  Mika said something to Roy in a low voice, and then they walked away.

  Samuel cupped Steel’s shoulder. “You take care. Don’t be a fucking stranger. Next time you come by to see your ma, look me up. We can catch up.”

  “I’ll do that. Say hi to your mom.” He glanced at Sani. “Good seeing you, dude.”

  The two tribal police officers went to their SUV. As they spoke briefly with the two agents, Steel motioned for Breanna to come over. When she came up to him, he whispered, “Don’t tell the fucking badges shit about me.” She nodded and pressed her lips together. He wanted to kiss those lips and hold her close. “I’ll see you later tonight. I love you, baby.”

  “Me too. Are you okay? Your face is really starting to swell.” She looked over her shoulder when the two agents called out her name. “I have to go.” She backed away.

  “Seven tonight,” he said in a barely audible voice.

  “Okay,” she mouthed, and then she whirled around and walked quickly to the waiting car.

  He watched as the car faded away into the distance, then went over to his bike, slipped on his cut, and made his way to his mother’s house for a visit.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Steel watched as Chenoa spread cream cheese over her bagel. They were sitting on the back patio listening to the gurgling stream while flashing green and blue dragonflies flitted about. A breeze wafted the sweet smell of freshly mown grass toward them.

  He loved these easy early afternoons they shared. She’d been living with him for the past two weeks, and she seemed to be thriving.

  “I think it’s awesome that you’re dating Breanna. I knew there was something between you guys. I saw it every time she came into the room at the rehab center when you were there.”

  “I wish you would’ve told me.” He winked at her when she gave him that “oh Dad” face. “You nervous about starting school next week?”

  She took a large bite out of her bagel and chewed for a few seconds. “Kinda. I wish I could’ve just studied for my GED. Breanna had it all arranged.”

  “Just give it a try. If you hate Jefferson High, then we can talk. I think it’s important for you to be involved in high school activities and not have so much free time. High school can be cool, but I don’t want you to stress it. If it’s bad, you tell me. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She stared off into the distance. “It shouldn’t be too bad. Michela and Josie are gonna be there. They said it’s not a bad school. So we’ll see.” She turned and smiled at him.

  When she smiled, it lit up her whole face. He never grew tired of seeing it. “Remember, if it’s not working, let me know, sunshine. I’m in this with you. You don’t have to go it alone, ever.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it.

  “You know what I wanna do? I wanna go to the clubhouse and play a game of pool with Uncle Paco. I never took him up on the bet he made me a few months ago before I… well… you know.”

  “Yeah.” He stroked her hand. “Why the hell not? Get your shoes on and we’ll ride over there. The brothers will be happy to see you.”

  Fuck the department.

  She gobbled down her bagel and jumped from the chair. “I’ll only be a few seconds.” She dashed into the house.

  * * *

  When they arrived at the clubhouse, Chenoa practically jumped from his Harley before he shut the motor off. He caught the helmet she threw at him and laughed as he watched her run through the opened doors, her long black hair swaying. When he entered, he saw Chenoa already sitting at the bar with a group of the brothers around her hugging and talking with her. Her dark eyes sparkled.

  “It’s fuckin’ great to see Chenoa,” Paco said.

  “She wanted to see everyone, especially you. I think she’s gonna challenge you to a pool game.” Steel took the tequila shot the prospect put in front of him. “Play a fair game, and let her win or lose on her own.”

  The vice president nodded. “How’s it going with your social worker,” he asked in a low voice.

  A broad smile broke over Steel’s face. “Fucking good. And her name’s Breanna. What do you got going?”

  “Nothing, just the way I like it. Club girls and an occasional hang-around satisfy me. I don’t need the fuckin’ drama of a citizen. I never thought you’d end up with one, let alone an employee with the goddamn government.” He took a long pull on his beer. “The brothers are all surprised.”

  “I’m fucking surprised. She grabbed hold of my balls and there was nothing I could do.”

  “You guys talking chicks?” Sangre asked as he approached the bar. “Chenoa’s looking real good, bro.” Steel glared at him and he threw his hands up. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. Fuck, she’s a kid and your daughter. Do you think I’m fuckin’ nuts?”

  “Yeah,” Goldie said as he sidled up next to the trio.

  Sangre gave him the middle finger. “What I meant is that she looks healthy and happy. It’s a good thing to see. Damn, you guys got dirty minds.” He chuckled.

  Steel laughed. “If anyone’s got a dirty mind, it’s you. All you ever do is think about fucking. You’re the damn opposite of Diablo.” The brothers laughed, then changed the conversation to Harleys when Chenoa came over.

  “Dad, can I go for a ride with Uncle Rooster? He told me he got a brand-new Harley and he said I had to ask you.”

  “Sure. Just make sure you wear a helmet.” He caught Rooster’s eye and winked at him.

  Rooster nodded and rose to his feet. “You ready to get going, little lady?”

  Steel loved the way Chenoa’s eyes brightened when she was excited. She scurried over to Rooster and they walked out. Steel trusted Rooster with his life. He and Tattoo Mike were the oldest members of the club. At thirty-six, Rooster had an old lady and a couple of kids, but he gave the brotherhood 100 percent.

  His old lady, Shannon, was a hard drinking, tell-it-like-it-is kind of woman, but she had a heart of gold. She and Tattoo Mike’s old lady, Sam, were best friends. Sam was a tough lady who didn’t take any shit from anyone. Steel liked her because she called it like it was, but she knew her place among the brothers. She showed respect to her man, and she didn’t disrespect any of the brothers. Even if a brother called her Samantha—her given name—to tease her, she’d hold her tongue, but her eyes shot daggers. If a non-brother called her Samantha, she’d rip their head off.

  Shannon and Sam had no use for the club girls, and sometimes Steel had to call them on it. He felt that all the women should get along. He understood the chasm between the club girls and old ladies, but he didn’t tolerate name-calling, rudeness, or deliberate cruelty being leveled at the club women. The old ladies respected that, but there was always tension crackling in the air whenever the two groups bumped into each other at the clubhouse.

  “Things going good with Chenoa?” Crow asked as he sat down at one of the tables near the bar.

  “Yeah. We’ll see how it goes when she starts school next week. One day at a time, you know?” Steel motioned for Ruby to come over.

  She sauntered over and wrapped her hands around his bicep. “You’re feeling good,” she said in a soft voice.

  Steel smiled and moved his arm. “Can you have Lena fix me a roast beef sandwich with tomatoes?”

  Her toothy smile filled her face. “Sure. You want any sugar with that?” She leaned in close and pressed her impressive chest against him.

  He laughed. “Nah, just the sandwich. Too much sugar will get me in trouble.”

  “I’ll take the sugar you�
��re offering him,” Sangre said as he grabbed another beer.

  “I know you will. I can count on that.” Ruby tossed her head and sashayed toward the kitchen, all eyes on her curvy hips as they swayed seductively from side to side.

  Paco whistled softly. “You gotta admire a woman who can move like that. Fuck, she’s got a great walk.”

  “Yep. Pure art. Who needs to go to a fuckin’ art museum when you got living art in the clubhouse?” Goldie shook his head. “I was so into her swaying ass that I forgot to tell her to get me a sandwich too.” He rose from his barstool. “I’ll be back.”

  “Where’re you going?” Crow asked.

  “The kitchen. I’m gonna tell Lena to make me a sandwich.” As he turned to walk away, several members yelled out their orders. “I’m not a fuckin’ waiter,” he said grudgingly as he grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

  Steel saw Skull walk in and he called him over. “What’s going on with our informant? Any new leads on who the distributor is?”

  Skull shook his head slowly. “Nope. It looks like things are going quiet for now. It’s like everyone’s paranoid or something.”

  “It’s probably because some dumb fuck figured out they sold smack to an outlaw’s daughter,” Paco said, moving over to Steel and Skull.

  Steel nodded. “You’re probably right.”

  “I wish we could pay the fuckin’ Skull Crushers a visit and persuade them to tell us.” Paco smiled at Ruby when she placed roast beef sandwiches in front of him and Steel. As she turned to leave, he gripped her arm. “I’ll be looking for you in about an hour, sweetie.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” She blew him a kiss and walked out.

  Steel sniggered, then picked up his sandwich and took a bite. “I’d love to persuade the fucking punks, but not at the risk of closing down the whole operation before we know who’s responsible.” The brothers nodded. “We gotta send Jigger in with a wad of cash to make a buy. Greed is a powerful motivator.”

  “Whoa. We’re just talking ’bout you, dude,” Sangre said as Jigger walked into the clubhouse.

  He dragged a chair over to their table. “Oh yeah? What about?”

  “You gotta set up a buy. I want you to hang at the arcades and bowling alley again to see if you can get in touch with a dealer.”

  “Fuck,” he said as he exhaled. “I always get these types of assignments.”

  “That’s ’cause you got a pretty boy’s face,” Crow teased. Some of the brothers guffawed and others sniggered.

  “Can you even grow a fuckin’ beard?” Skull asked as his brothers howled.

  “Fuck that!” Jigger pushed his chair back.

  “Good thing you got your patch. Otherwise, you wouldn’t get any prime pussy.” Sangre sat back and crossed his leg over his thigh.

  Jigger’s eyes shot flames, and his neck and face were covered in red splotches. Steel held up his hand. “That’s enough. We got some business to discuss. Jigger, you look like a goddamn high schooler. It fucking sucks, but that’s the way it is. Hang out this week at the arcades and see what gives. School starts next week, so it’s gonna be busy.”

  “Will do.” Jigger picked up his beer.

  “Who knows, you may find a girlfriend.” Crow wiggled his eyebrows, then busted out laughing when Jigger gave him the finger.

  Steel’s phone pinged, and he looked at the text.

  Breanna: Thinking bout U.

  He smiled.

  Steel: I like that.

  Breanna: What’re U & Chenoa doing?

  Steel: At the club.

  Breanna: WTF?

  Steel: ???

  Breanna: She’s not supposed to B @ club.

  Steel gritted his teeth.

  Steel: What’s ur fucking point?

  Breanna: Ur mad @ me.

  Steel: Busy. Gotta go.

  Breanna: Don’t shut down on me.

  Steel: I’m not.

  Breanna: It’s just I’m worried bout Dept & Chenoa.

  His lips pressed into a white slash; she was pissing him the hell off.

  Steel: Don’t B. She’s not ur kid.

  When he hit “Send” he knew she’d be hurt, but he didn’t want her questioning his decisions. When it came to Chenoa, he was very protective.

  As he waited for a response from her that never came, he knew he’d crossed the line. The truth was that he was thrilled Breanna cared about Chenoa; she genuinely liked her. He ran his fingers through his hair. Shimá’s right—I’m a hothead.

  He wasn’t used to apologizing, especially to women. For him, it was a sign of weakness or an attestation that he’d failed at something.

  He started to type an apology to her when Chenoa burst through the door, her hair tousled, her eyes bright, and her voice shrill with excitement. “It was the best, Dad. Uncle Rooster’s Harley is so badass.” She went over to him and plopped down. “What’re you eating? It looks good.”

  “Roast beef. I’ll get you one. Is Rooster’s bike better than your old man’s?”

  She smiled slyly. “No. Nothing’s better than yours.”

  “Right answer.” He ruffled her hair.

  “I’m gonna fix up. I’ll just go into the kitchen and fix my own sandwich.” She rose to her feet.

  “Ask Lena to do it. She likes doing that shit.” He watched as she bounced away, and then he turned to Rooster. “Thanks, man.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that.” He clasped Steel’s shoulder.

  The rest of the afternoon he and Chenoa hung out with the brothers. She lost two games of pool to Paco, but she beat his ass at darts. It was the perfect day.

  When six o’clock rolled around, Chenoa came up to Steel and leaned against him. He put his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

  “Dad, why don’t you call Breanna and we can go out to eat. I’m craving Mexican food real bad.”

  “Sure. I’ll see if she can come.” I forgot to send her an apology. Fuck. “I’ll go outside and give her a call. It’s quieter.” He went behind the clubhouse, plugged in her number, and waited for her to answer. She didn’t. A frown crossed his forehead, making his fine lines deepen. He decided he’d send her a text in case she was in a meeting. It seemed that she was always in a meeting with either the special agents, the department, her coworkers, or clients. He’d jump out of his skin if he had her job.

  Steel: Hey. Chenoa & I r going for Mexican. Want to join us? 7 or 7:30?

  No answer. She’s pissed. But a part of him was too. The truth was she wasn’t Chenoa’s mother, and he didn’t feel like she had a right to tell him what he could or couldn’t do with her. She was only thinking of you. The damn department doesn’t want Chenoa around the club. She was only scared they’d find out. That was fair. Maybe he was being unreasonable.

  Steel: I don’t want u to think I don’t care what u think. I may have said some shit I didn’t mean.

  Again, no answer.

  He jutted out his jaw. If that’s the way you wanna play it, baby, that’s fine with me. He walked back to the clubhouse and went over to Chenoa. “Looks like Breanna can’t make it, so it’s just gonna be the two of us.”

  “That’s cool. Maybe we can go earlier. I’m starving.”

  He laughed. “We can go now.” She leapt up and went over to the brothers to say her goodbyes. When they went outside, he looked at her. “Jalisco’s Restaurant?” She nodded enthusiastically and they left the clubhouse, his arm around her shoulders, tightly tucking her to him.

  During dinner he kept glancing at his phone, expecting a text from Breanna, but he didn’t hear anything from her. After paying the check, he and Chenoa headed for his Harley. Before he turned on the ignition, he looked over his shoulder. “I wanna stop by Breanna’s. You down for that?”

  “Yeah. That’s fine. I wanted to show her the new lip gloss I got.”

  When they arrived at her house, he saw her car in the driveway. His muscles tightened as they went up the walk. He had to remember to not blow his st
ack and make the situation worse, no matter what happened. He rang the doorbell.

  After a few minutes, she opened the door. Her hair fell around her like a halo, and she looked killer in her T-shirt and shorts. She raised her brows and opened the screen door. “Hi, Chenoa. How are you?”

  Steel ground his teeth.

  “Hi. Dad and I just finished dinner. We went to Jalisco’s and it was so good. I want to show you this real cool lip gloss I ordered online.”

  Breanna smiled. “Come on in.” She turned and he and Chenoa entered her house. “Do you want something to drink?” She looked at Chenoa only.

  “I’ll have a Coke, if you have it.” Chenoa glanced at Steel. “Do you want anything, Dad?”

  He shook his head as he clenched his fists, struggling for control. No one fucking ignores me. He stood near the front door with his arms crossed over his chest as Breanna placed a can of Coke in front of Chenoa and then sat down next to her, gushing about how beautiful the color of her new lip gloss was.

  This is fucking bullshit.

  “Remember you promised to show me your new kit of eyeshadows for the smoky eye look?” Chenoa asked as she picked up her drink.

  “I forgot. I’ll go get them.” Breanna rose from the couch and went to her bedroom.

  Steel followed her with narrowed eyes. “Chill for a few, okay, sunshine?”

  Chenoa nodded and picked up the remote control from the coffee table.

  He went into Breanna’s room and closed the door.

  She gasped when she came out of the bathroom holding a red oblong box. “You startled me,” she muttered as she brushed past him.

  He gripped her arm and yanked her to him. “What the fuck?” he gritted.

  “Let go of me.” She tried to pull away, but he only held on tighter.

  “You don’t fucking treat me like you did, woman. That’s bullshit. If you’re pissed at me, you fucking talk to me. You never disrespect me. Ever.” His voice was deep, gravelly.

  “You’re hurting me,” she said. He let go of her arm. “So you want me to respect you, but it’s okay if you don’t do the same to me? Sounds like the typical biker double standard my dad was famous for.” She lifted her chin in defiance.